


for the war-torn

by TolkienGirl



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Complex relationships, F/M, Gen, Spoilers, richard siken
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-29 01:03:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18768016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TolkienGirl/pseuds/TolkienGirl
Summary: He would have called it love, if she asked.





	for the war-torn

_It’s not like a tree where the roots have to end somewhere,_

_It’s more like a song on a policeman's radio,_

\- Richard Siken,  _Scheherazade_

_See you in a minute_ , Nat says, with the smile that is in fact more eyes than lips, and the truth is—

She’s not entirely wrong.

 

Steve knows the rules. (Take as much time as you need.)

Steve knows the rules. (Walk through your past, and you might just change a future.)

Steve saves Bucky, Steve finds Nat when she is

just

a

child

…and sets her on a path where she doesn’t need him.

 

He’s looking out at the lake and the rest of them are looking for an answer and Steve? Steve has lost people enough times to know that you can always lose them again.

Thor shouts, Clint shouts back. Clint was there—and he knew her longest. It’s only fair.

(Nothing about this is fair.)

 

 _It’s alright_ , Peggy says,  _If it was love. You can have another love, you know._

 _It wasn’t like_ this _,_  Steve explains, touching her ring. He explains because explanation feels like memory even though the present is a past that didn’t happen to anyone else here.  _But if she’d ever asked if it was love, I would have said yes._

 

 _There’s a chance you might be in the wrong business, Rogers_.

She always sounded like she knew.

 

There were lived fears where he imagined Tony dying and Nat getting him through it, or Nat dying and Tony getting him through it. He didn’t think—didn’t think he wouldn’t have at least  _one_  wise-cracking voice turned soft, serving as a bell-clear compass.

“They’re out there somewhere,” Bruce says. “Cracking open shitty beer in Valhalla, or wherever people go when they die.”

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose, because the salt of tears still stings, even when your eyes are a super soldier’s eyes. “I bet they are. I bet Tony’s built an empire out of the cans.”

(This is a week before he—goes.)

 

Peggy and he adopt a daughter. Her name is Sarah. She does ballet.

 

_These pointe shoes yours, Romanoff?_

_Careful, Rogers. How’d you know they were pointe shoes?_

_You know, I used to dance in a chorus line._

_Oh, I haven’t forgotten. They’ve really improved spandex since then. Thank God._

_You don’t believe in God._

_I would if you did high kicks. Or an arabesque._

“How does it feel?” Bucky asks. “Being old?”

“Right.” He pours a little more tea, marveling at the age-spots on his hands.

 _Everything special about you came out of a bottle._ That’s not true anymore, and he’s grateful.

“People probably think I’m your grandson,” Bucky chuckles. His arm creaks as he leans forward; it’s time for another tune-up. They’ll have to get Shuri on the line. “That’s weird as hell.”

“I think you found each other there,” Steve says softly. He doesn’t talk a lot about this, because it was still a world of suffering for Bucky, before Steve came back. “You and—you and Nat.”

A muscle in Bucky’s jaw jumps. “Can’t ever leave well enough alone, can you?”

(There was something between them, too.)

 

The lake again. Water still and silent.  _Life is like a dream._

Clint squints back towards the cabin, where Morgan and little Nate are battling with lightsabers. “It seemed disrespectful at first,” Clint says. “Not—not having a grave.”

Peggy has a gravestone here, and one in a world Steve left behind (again). “If you think it’s the right thing to do, say the word.” His hip aches. Arthritis. An acute case, actually; the serum can only last so long, and he’s put a lot of punishment on these bones.

( _Grateful_.)

Clint shakes his head.  “She didn’t like to be held down.” His voice is a bit scratchy. “No one place for final resting.”

Steve understands, and says, “Just rest.”

 

“Come on, old man,” Clint says, and offers his arm back up the hill.

 

_Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake_

_and dress them in warm clothes again._

_How it was late, and no one could sleep, the horses running_

_until they forget that they are horses._


End file.
